


I go crazy because of you

by Haxxaholic



Series: Little Minx [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Adam is a stupid stupid stupid bestfriend, David Silva is a little minx, Jealousy, M/M, Villa is an awesome bestfriend, but Joe Hart still loves him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 09:36:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3062900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haxxaholic/pseuds/Haxxaholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe Hart wasn't a jealous man, he was a <i>nice</i> and <i>caring<i> young man</i>, thank you very much.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	I go crazy because of you

**Author's Note:**

> or the one David Silva is a little minx and Joe Hart is everything but jealous.
> 
> aka Joe Hart and the Green-Eyed Monster.

Joe Hart wasn't a jealous man, he was a _nice_ and _caring_ young man, thank you very much.

As a child, he always shared his toys with the other kids and would never whine because his friend Taylor had gotten the latest video game. As a teenager, he shared his CDs or lent his car to his friends. As a man, he was giving money to charities.

So, no. He wasn't _jealous._ (Go to hell, James.) Or _possessive._ (Shut up, Adam.) Or a _crazy mofo_. (Be glad you are a legend Villa, or _else.)_

But, if the whole world could please stop _hugging, touching, looking_ at, or _breathe_ the same air as David Silva _then_ Joe Hart would be a happier man. ("You are such a psycho, Hart." We didn't ask for your opinion, Aleks, thanks.)

Because, like, did Samir _really_ have to pet David's hair like he was a freaking _cat_ after his first goal against Crystal Palace? ("Bro, David IS a cat!" Shut up, you are totally missing the point here, Nasri.) Or did Aleks _really_ need to hug David that _tight_ after his second goal during the same game? ("Crazy mofo. Villa is right, y'know, Hart." Again, no opinion needed Aleks, thanks.)

And why did the whole freaking Spanish National Team feel the need to snog the hell out of him every time he was as much as touching the ball?!

Sure, David wasn't innocent in this entire "sharing the love" thing. Some of his fans had actually started calling him a koala. A _flying_ koala even. Because, yes, David Silva was like a flying koala when he was celebrating a goal with his teammates. Being small and light had so many advantages and David used them to climb his teammates as if they were freaking _trees_. (His climbing skills were useful in so many other wonderful ways. Outside a pitch that is. But Joe was digressing.)

It wasn't Joe's fault if he felt a little left out of the celebrations; being the goalie and all, he just couldn't leave his nets to cuddle David. (He tried once. Pellegrini almost had an aneurism.)

So no, Joe Hart wasn't jealous. He just didn't feel the need to share David Silva with the world.

 *

James Philip Milner was _dead_ to Joe from now on.

Joe wasn't sulking like a child. Nope. He was just not happy. When David found him, the goalie was sitting in front of his locker and staring at his phone with an unhappy frown. The boys from City were all chatting around him but he didn't pay attention to them.

"Joe?" The Spaniard called while taking a seat next to the blonde. "Why so not happy?"

Joe's reply was to frown even more and all right, yes, he was sulking like a child. So he didn't reply and ignored David with a huff.

"You ignoring me? Why?" David tried again and even used his most innocent voice. (Yes, he did have one and the little minx knew _how_ and _when_ to use it.) Joe wanted to reply so badly, because, really, David was too cute to be angry at (and because Joe was a goner, that too.). But a look at the Spaniard and the goalkeeper suddenly realized the little shit knew why Joe Hart, best goalkeeper of the England national team, was sulking like a kid.

So Joe didn't reply and turned away. The City players around them just grinned and kept changing into their kits. In the four years since David Silva joined Manchester City, never ever had Joe Hart ignored him but had always been trying to catch his attention by mocking him ("Sooo David. Still waiting for your growth spurt?") or making fun of the ones talking to David instead. ("Shut up Adam, we don't understand ya anyway, go away.") But recently David had been playing a game with Joe and the goalkeeper was _really_ slow to understand the rules. In result of said game that Joe didn't know he was playing at, he had been sulking, ignoring David and pouting like a "petulant child, oh my god Joe" (Again, thanks Aleks.) almost every day.

"I do something wrong?" David dared to ask so falsely innocently that it made Samir, whose locker was right next to Joe's, snorted. “Why?”

Joe had enough and finally decided to react. He was an adult after all so he would act like one!

"I dunno, maybe ask _Milly_." The adult inside of Joe was _probably_ dead or something because the way he replied sounded more like a 4 year-old sulking when someone stole his favorite toy than it did a 27-year-old. Joe groaned internally. Whatever, he was the _tallest_ and most _handsome_ 4-year-old at least.

"Qué?”

"What?" James echoed from the other side of the lock room. He was already half ready for training, his jersey only missing. The view seemed to make Joe scowl even more.

"I said, go ask Milly since you are so _cute_ together." Joe repeated while gesturing between a totally bewildered James and an innocent-looking David. "Or better, go on a romantic dinner together!”

"What the fuck?" James Milner was not one to cuss outside of a pitch but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. The whole locker room was staring at a now pouting Joe Hart.

"Joe?" David asked, a smile slowly creeping on his face. "You read the, ah, _periódicos_ again, no?"

Joe wanted to reply that _yes_ he had read the _“periódicos”_ because _someone_ had left their computer opened on one of these stupid websites talking about the amazing _bromance_ that was David Silva and James Milner, this morning in the kitchen. That _yes_ , he had also read the copy of one of those rags that was waiting for him in front of his locker. (Aleks’ sense of humor was so twisted, seriously.) And _yes_ , he’d also seen Sharon’s pictures of James hugging David quite tightly on his phone too, thank you very much. (God damn it, _David_ , couldn’t you keep your hands off James’ bum for once?!). Instead, Joe didn’t reply, crossed his arms and pouted even more.

The goalkeeper's silence was enough for David. The other City players just groaned or full-on started making fun of Joe and went back to changing for training.

"God damn it, Hart." Vincent muttered from somewhere in the room. "Get ready, you idiot."

David got up to stand in front of Joe, a huge smile now splitting his face. He uncrossed Joe’s arms without any difficulties (Yes, Joe was too much gone for David Silva to resist.) and placed the goalie’s hands on his hips.

“You are jealous, no?” David dared to ask, the little shit. Joe was much aware that David was doing it on purpose, he just _knew_ it.

“No, I am _not_.” The petulant child was back and Joe couldn’t care less about it.

It seemed the same applied to David who laughed just before stooping down to kiss Joe’s pout away. (“Bro! Not in da locker room!” Joe was going to kill Samir, he swore.) They parted but Joe wouldn’t let David go away, not yet, he pulled the shorter man closer to him.

“I hate you.” Joe mumbled into David’s shirt, his arms now enclosing the Spaniard’s tiny waist.

“No, you do not, Joe.” David replied, hugging Joe back. (And no, he didn’t.)

 *

 David Villa was a legend, Spain's all-time top goal-scorer as well as the country's top scorer in the World Cup.

But David Villa was also a big, _big_ menace to Joe Hart. So when David told him Villa would come to Carrington for a month to have a training session with Manchester City, Joe felt threatened. Villa and Silva had known each other for almost a decade. They used to play in Valencia and the Spanish national team together where they’d won a lot of trophies. Joe couldn’t compete with David _freaking_ Villa at all.

The morning of the first day, Joe wasn’t his usual cheerful self. He was brooding and avoiding David, something really hard when they lived together. They met Villa in the parking in front of the training center; Sharon was already there, snapping billions of pictures, and the guys from City TV were waiting for Silva to arrive to have an interview of the two Spaniards. Joe felt left out when David told him he didn’t have to wait for them. He entered the center without a word.

It’s only an hour later that Silva and Villa were allowed to join the team on the training fields. After the warm-up, the coaches decided to do a mini game and mixed the players of Manchester City and New-York City together. Villa and Silva ended up in the same team and, _oh_ , the Valencia’s magic was still alive and _burning_. It was truly amazing to observe them play together. Villa didn’t need to watch behind him to see if David was following him because _he_ _always_ _was_ , Silva didn’t need to know if Villa would catch his ball because _he always_ _would_. You could _never_ erase ten years together on a field. When Joe failed to catch Villa’s ball, Joe felt even crappier than before.

A full week passed and Joe couldn’t get out of his funk. David kept sending him worried glances and had paused his stupid game. Joe had _finally_ understood the Spaniard’s game and was trying to find a way to reciprocate. (“Took ya long enough!” Go to hell, Adam.)

His brooding came to a stop on Saturday after a Premier League game. Joe was waiting for David outside the stadium, in the private parking, because even if he wasn’t in a good mood, he would _never_ leave without him. (“You are such a sap, ya fucker!” Adam was a terrible, terrible, terrible best friend.)

He was reading his e-mail on his phone when someone sat next to him, on the hood of his car.

David Villa and his famous bitch face were right next to him. (Joe was a dead man, oh _God_.)

“You are an idiot, Hart.”

 _Well, thank you, you home wrecker_ , Joe wanted to reply, but instead what came out was “Huh?”

“Silva is _yours_ so stop being an idiot.” The “or else” wasn’t said but Joe _still_ heard it.

Joe suddenly felt stupid because _yes_ , David liked to flirt with blokes, loved to cuddle the boys from City and was just a tiny bitsy too touchy-feely on the field… but he _never_ went behind Joe’s back to do those things. It was just a _game_ to him, nothing else. Joe knew David could have gone with another guy but he _chose_ Joe three years ago.

Realizing he was done with Joe, Villa stood up and with a last bitch face (which screamed “Next time, I am gonna kill you so stop fucking up.” Joe was certain.), went back inside to chat with the guys from New-York City.

Five minutes later, when David Silva finally came out (“Why do you spend so much time in there anyway? You always have bed hair.” Joe learnt a new swear word in Spanish that day.), he looked apprehensive. So Joe did the only sensible thing and waited until David was closed enough to press him against his car and proceeded to kiss the life out of him. And when he felt David smile against his lips, Joe knew he had been a _real_ idiot to believe David Silva would leave him for David Villa.

*

 David Silva was an adult in a happy relationship with another adult named Joe Hart. They both were living their dream, had an amazing bunch of friends (“Adam is still stupid, David.”) and had incredible families. They had everything they ever wanted and more. So, _no_ , David Silva would never ever be jealous of an 18-year-old still living with his mother. (“Wasn’t your father driving you up to your training in Valencia?” Joe was right; Adam was a stupid, stupid, _stupid_ best friend.)

David couldn’t help but grind his teeth while watching Joe talk with José Ángel Pozo, Manchester City’s youngest player. The boy was looking at Joe with freaking stars in his eyes and was drinking his words up like a _fanboy_. The Spaniard knew Joe liked José (or _Ángel_ because“Daviiiid, he’s so cute and looks like one!”) and wanted him to feel included and welcomed in Manchester City just like David was when he joined. (Well, if you could say that having a poster of Nigel de Jong kung-fu kicking Xabi Alonso during the World Cup on his locker was a warm welcome.)

David squinted his eyes when Joe put his arm around José’s shoulders. He wouldn’t be jealous, he would _not_. That was _his_ job to make _Joe_ jealous not the other way around. José started laughing at something Joe said and punched him on his chest like a freaking fan _girl_.

Never mind, scratch that, David was _very_ possessive and _really_ jealous; he had never liked sharing his stuff with _kids_ and _never would_.

Under the amused faces of the City players, a really furious David walked up to Joe, almost ripped the goalkeeper’s jersey by grabbing it hard enough to make Joe stoop down to his level and kissed him fully on the lips. The kiss was dirty and full of tongue, something David didn’t like to do in front of his team but drastic measures were required in this situation. The Spaniard was fully aware of José right next to him, mouth wide opened and staring at Joe and David kissing. (“You DO have an exhibitionism kink!” Joe would say later. David would pretend to not understand.)

When they finally parted, Joe looked totally dazed and José was shocked. With a last (chaste) kiss, David let go of Joe’s jersey and turned to the young boy still staring at them and now totally red.

“ _Mine_.” The word was simple and clear, José immediately let go of Joe and quickly nodded.

And with that, David Silva left the room with a smirk on his face and under the applauses of his team mates.

(“I can’t win at this game, can I?” Joe would ask much, much later. David would pretend to not understand once again.) 

*

 Joe Hart wasn't usually a _jealous_ and _possessive_ man.

As a child, he always shared his sweets with the kids from the neighborhood. As a teenager, he always accepted to share his room with the younger kids. As a man, he was spreading love in the children's hospitals.

 _Usually_ being the keyword. He wasn’t _usually_ jealous and possessive.

But, until the whole world would stop _hugging, touching, looking at,_ or _breathe_ the same air as David Silva… well until _then_ Joe Hart would not stop being a crazy jealous and possessive mofo. Thank you very much.

**Author's Note:**

> Huh-uh. It turned into a serie because I love David Silva too much and can't say no to Sophie. Oh well.


End file.
